Kismet
by DC41781
Summary: Norman Bates has lived a hard and unfulfilling life. When he meets Norma Calhoun, he thinks maybe fate has decided to intervene. What he doesn't know is that Norma is hiding secrets that could ruin his fragile hopes. AU. Norman/Norma, Norman/Bradley, Dylan/OC
1. Chapter 1

It was an uncomfortable position. To be caught between the future and the past, stuck exactly where you don't want to be, watching everyone get by far easier than you. Norman felt that cold press of expectation every day. He worked not to think about it and pretended to be content in the moments where it was required of him.

Sometimes, he didn't really have to pretend and those were the moments he enjoyed the most. Today, he found one of those fleeting seconds in the form of early afternoon silence and Bradley's warm touch rubbing up and down his ribs. He glanced down at her, his eyes shimmering in the steady rays of sunlight peeking through the shades. "I'm glad you came over."

She gave him a smile. "I am, too."

He wanted to say more. That he would miss her, that he cared about her, that he thought about her constantly. The words stuck in his throat as she moved away from him. Norman felt a chill attack his nerves and wanted to throw himself at her again. He resisted, but only because his phone rang from the bedside table.

"Hey, Dylan. This better be important." He watched Bradley walk toward the window, all bare skin and slow motion torture.

"Van and I need you to pick up Dani from school."

Children. Hundreds of children. It sounded like Hell and Norman wasn't quite ready to be sent there yet. "No."

"Come on, Norman. You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

"Have Mom do it."

"She's working all day cause Emma's in the hospital."

Damn it. "Why should I?"

"Because I asked nicely, little brother. Please."

"Does the school have my name so they know I'm not kidnapping her?" Bradley came back toward the bed and watched him curiously, one hand over his.

"Of course, Norman."

"All right, I'll do it."

"Thank you."

He hung up before Dylan could say anymore and pulled Bradley into his arms. She squealed at the impact and Norman had to laugh. She warmed him in ways few other people could. "Who was that?" She asked.

"My brother. I have to go get my niece at school."

"Right now?"

He dropped his face to her neck and ran his hands down her sides. "An hour or so. She's in after care."

"You never told me you have a niece."

"It didn't seem important."

"Why not?"

The room shifted around him in sections, forcing him to take a second to calm himself. "My family is complicated. And I love my brother and my niece – I honestly do – but that part of my life is a sore spot."

"Okay, Norman." It was a whisper on his skin. "I have to go."

"Fine. See you tomorrow?"

"You never know."

* * *

The school was strangely quiet. Unsettled, Norman shoved his hands in his pockets and headed for the last classroom on the left. The word 'science' was etched into a nameplate that hung proudly. Norman fought off a sardonic chuckle and went in, only to be immediately swallowed by the noise of cartoons and rowdy children. There was only one other adult; she sat at the desk at the front, her eyes busy on a book. Norman observed her while she pushed her glasses up her nose and readjusted the edges of her skirt.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, though she hadn't caught him and though the children were uninterested in his presence.

She looked up, startled. An effortless grin slid into place, dazzling Norman and keeping him glued to his spot a few feet from her. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah. I'm Norman Bates. I'm here to pick up my niece."

"Uncle Norman!" She charged for his legs from the other side of the room. Norman groaned playfully at the collision, his giddy smile trained on the teacher, who shook her head in bemusement.

"Seems like she found you."

"Seems that way." He bent down to lift the little girl into his arms. She rested her head underneath his chin and relaxed. Ever since she'd been a baby, Norman had had the magic touch. "Hey, short stuff. Did you have fun?"

"Yeah!"

"Good." He gave the woman his attention again, trying not to seem too obvious in his attraction. "Well, thank you, Mrs…"

"Ms. Calhoun." She took his offered hand and ducked her head just slightly. "And you're very welcome, Mr. Bates."

Was she…nervous? Impossible. He should've been the nervous one, considering how earth shatteringly beautiful she was with her striking blue eyes and slim figure and tight pencil skirt. "It was nice to meet you."

"You, too. Have a nice day. Bye, Dani."

"Bye, Ms. Calhoun!"

* * *

He was disheveled, to be sure and a bit uneven, but there was a softness to him that she was immediately attracted to. A kind baby face that the scruff only kind of alleviated. And the way he was with Dani? Norma could only see familiarity and deep affection there; that girl loved him and Norma trusted a child's judgment above all else. They were like animals in their ability to sense the goodness in people. So, yes, Norman was a bit rough around the edges, with his tattered jeans and black t-shirt and messy hair, but she felt a desire to understand that visible hopelessness and resignation.

She wanted to see him again. She just wasn't sure how to go about making that happen.

* * *

"So, that's your teacher, huh?"

Dani nodded vehemently and continued to bounce along to the teenybopper song on the radio.

Norman kept going, figuring this would be his only chance to extract details. "You like her?"

"Yeah. She's nice."

"That's good. Is she quiet or what?"

"She's really fun."

Norman felt the urge to bang his head against the steering wheel. What the hell was he doing asking a five year old these questions? There had to be a way to find out more about this woman without having to go back to that school. Then again, he didn't even know her first name. Damn it.

* * *

Dylan saw right through him, of course. "You actually want to pick her up now?"

"Of course I do. She's my niece."

"That's not what you said…" His eyes narrowed and Norman squirmed from where he stood leaning against the kitchen counter. "Hold on a second. You met Ms. Calhoun, didn't you?"

Norman lost his brother's gaze, completely giving himself away.

"Jesus Christ, Norman."

"What? She gave me signals, Dylan. I can't just…"

"She's twice your age!"

He shrugged. "It's like I couldn't stand to learn a few things."

"You're unbelievable."

"I'm not." Norman sighed. "Look, I just need one more day and then I promise I won't use Dani to get close to her again."

"If Van finds out about this, she'll kill you."

"Trust me, brother, it's worth the risk."

"I don't want any part in this. At all." His scrutiny grew sharper. "This is why Dad was the way he was with you. You have such terrible impulses."

Norman blanched and felt his veins constrict with the utter strength of his anger. "That man beat the shit out of me for years but thanks for making it seem deserved. I appreciate it."

"Norman, wait. That's not what I meant."

"Shut up, Dylan. All I want is to know this woman a little better. Who knows, maybe it'll turn out to be a good thing. God forbid I'm allowed to be happy."

"You are, Norman. You are. Just…"

"Just what?"

"All right, Norman. All right. You can pick up Dani tomorrow."

"Thank you."

* * *

There were scars. Plenty of them. Some visible, some just under the surface of his skin, burning and sinister. He knew he needed help, someone he could talk to seriously about it but he was scared, so fricking scared of what would be revealed. It was impossible to reconcile the fear and the desperation. He tried every day.

The liquor store loomed in front of him, right alongside the temptation to drown himself in it and never come back up for air.

He couldn't fight it; not now, not ever. He tapped on the steering wheel in a loose, uneven rhythm in an effort to fight off the urge. That is, until he caught sight of a familiar figure heading toward the store.

The sight made him jump from his car. "Ms. Calhoun!"

She spun on her heel and fixed him with a questioning gaze. Then, a smile broke across his face. "Mr. Bates, how are you? Did you get Dani home okay?"

"Yes, of course. And call me Norman, please."

"Well then, Norman, it's nice to meet you. I'm Norma."

He chuckled. "Really? That's…"

"Kismet."

"Kismet?"

The corner of her mouth ticked up. "Fate."

"I can't believe we've never met before. Especially if you frequent this particular establishment."

Something changed in her face and Norman almost mistook it for judgment. After a second, he realized she seemed more thoughtful than anything. "Your brother told me about your habit. I was hoping I'd run into you here."

"My brother? He called you?"

"I called him. I have his cell number at the school."

"Isn't that a breach of protocol?"

"Not if you don't tell on me. Are you a tattletale, Mr. Bates?"

His insides squirmed and his heart skipped a beat. "Not often."

"Well, I hope your lips are sealed on this one."

"Only if you have a cup of coffee with me."

"Deal."

* * *

She took three sugars in her coffee and a hell of a lot of cream. Norman took careful note of it, watching her delicate fingers tear at those pink packets, her teeth tight on her bottom lip in concentration. There was a single piece of blonde hair hanging over her face and Norman studied the way it swayed in and out of her line of vision.

He folded his hands on the tabletop and squeezed. Trepidation gnawed at his nerves without mercy. "So, what else has my brother told you?"

"He told me you have trouble with feelings."

"He isn't wrong."

Norma stared at him hard for a long, long moment. "There's something about you, Norman. A kindness that doesn't exist in most people. You're just too afraid to show it."

"What are you? A psychologist?"

"No. I'm just observant. And you're an open book whether you like it or not." She took a long sip from her mug and eyed him over its edge. Norman had to look away. "For example, Dani's excitement and surprise at seeing you today made it pretty clear that you're avoiding getting too close to her. Why is that?"

He swallowed the desire to verbally tear her to shreds and answered the question in a shaky, broken voice. "I don't have the greatest history with my family, but I love that little girl. I just don't want her to know what's happened to me because of her grandparents and her father."

"You're protecting her."

"Yes. My damage…she doesn't deserve that."

Norma's face softened into melancholy. "She loves you, Norman. You can't take out your pain on her."

"I know that! You think I don't know that?!"

She recoiled like he'd slapped her as the patrons in the café turned to look in their direction. Norman breathed out. "I'm sorry, Norma. I just didn't realize this date would turn out to be you psychoanalyzing me."

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just want to get to know you."

He scoffed. "Then ask normal questions, doctor."

A cute little laugh bubbled out of her. "My dad was a psychologist. It's a force of habit."

"I see. What about your mom?"

"She was a baker. Had a shop below our apartment."

His mind whirled at the image of Norma being content with her loving parents. He felt a pang of bitterness and sorrow. "Any siblings?"

"I had a brother, but he died when I was fifteen."

"Norma, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. It's an old wound."

"Old wound." The heat from his mug soothed his fraying nerves. "I know all about those. So…you ever been married, Norma Calhoun?"

She glanced toward the door, her eyes glazed in memory. "Once. It didn't work out. What about you? Girlfriend?"

"Not quite."

"What does that mean, Mr. Cryptic?"

"She and I aren't serious."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"I don't know, doc. Why don't you tell me?"

Her laugh was absolutely infectious and Norman basked in it. It lightened the weight on his chest. Something in him sank when she came out of her glee to check her watch. "It's getting late. I have school tomorrow."

"What do you teach, anyway?"

"It's kindergarten. I teach a little bit of everything."

"It's been awhile since I've been in kindergarten, Ms. Calhoun. I'm sure I've forgotten most of those lessons."

Her lips split to show her teeth. "Cute."

"Does that mean I can go back to school?"

"Absolutely."


	2. Chapter 2

_2 weeks later…_

He walked in with that forlorn, puppy dog look in his eyes. He had a coffee in one hand and a Dunkin' Donuts bag in the other. "Bacon, egg and cheese bagel and a vanilla latte. That'll be ten bucks, please."

Her students were still outside waiting for the bell to ring and the school day to start. Norma appreciated the alone time with Norman. "Not on your life, sweetie. Boyfriends are supposed to pay."

"Is that what I am?"

"I thought so."

The ridiculous grin on his face gave her a pang of something. Guilt? She couldn't be sure; she just knew it wasn't akin to the indifference she usually felt. A blush crept up the nape of Norman's neck. "I'm glad I am. I just didn't realize…"

Norma rose from her desk and took the bag and coffee from him. "You're so cute." Her lips brushed his. She pulled back before he could grab her and lead her into another. "Are you gonna stay here?"

"For a little bit, yeah. Dylan wants me to go see my Dad. I haven't decided if I want to yet."

"You should. He's your dad."

He smirked. "Norma, I know you haven't known me long, but I can't even begin to explain why that's a terrible idea."

"Try."

He clicked his teeth and ran a palm down the front of his white dress shirt. Norma noted that he'd started dressing better since they'd met. She was endeared by the gesture. "Norma, my father was terrible to me for a long time. I'm not gonna afford him friendly visits."

"I get it, Norman. Better than you think."

"Then don't tell me to do something I can't do. Like Dylan does."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. And don't be hard on Dylan. He cares about you."

"He has a funny way of showing it." He sat on the edge of her desk, his gaze trained straight at her, cutting right through her skin. For a second, Norma thought that maybe he could see her ulterior motives. Until he relaxed and shrugged. "I hate my dad. Hate him. And I have a hard time letting go of what I wish our relationship could've been. He never gave me what he should have."

"That's clear, honey. I'm just saying, closure…"

"I don't want fucking closure! I want him out of my life. And I want everybody to stop treating me like I'm wrong for that."

She actually flinched at that, so surprised she was by the fiery nature of his fury. This kid was wound up tighter than a drum. Norma knew how to navigate him, but at the same time, he seemed infallible. "Okay, Norman. Okay. I'm just trying to help."

"Well, you're not, you ever think of that?"

The bell rang and the sound of children rushing in overtook their senses. Norman moved away from her desk and leaned against the wall, watching silently while her classroom filled in little bit by little bit. She crossed the space between them and rested her hand on his cheek. He could feel the beady pairs of young eyes fixated on them and cleared his throat. "Norma."

"I don't care. I need to tell you this. I like you, okay? I like you and I want you to be okay. That's it. You understand?"

He swallowed a rush of emotions and nodded. "Yes."

She kissed him hard. A chorus of 'oooo's' sounded out around them. Norman tried to push her away, but ended up groping at her instead. She ended it after a stretch of seconds and turned to the class. "Children, this is Norman. And you'll probably be seeing a lot of him."

"Hi, Norman!"

He caught the eyes of his niece, who sat in the middle seat in the third row. Her posture was stock still and she was barely smiling. He felt himself blush. "Hey, guys. Sorry you had to see that." Norma tugged on his hand and Norman glanced at her, his cheeks still holding onto his embarrassment. "See you later?"

Norma winked. "You got it. Bye, baby."

* * *

He couldn't breathe. The world crept in closer with every mile he crossed between the school and the county jail. His head was throbbing and tears were gathering in his eyes. This was it. The decision he'd been too scared to make for himself. The journey he'd let Dylan and Norma talk him into. He thought of his mother in that far off memory, screaming and frantic, begging the police to save him. The tears fell then, just as the prison itself came into view.

This was it.

* * *

His father looked like hell and Norman found some satisfaction in that fact. There were large bags under his eyes and a haunting darkness to his pupils. He seemed afraid. Norman thought he deserved that little taste of his own medicine.

Sam sat immediately, though Norman could see him contemplating a hug. Perhaps it was Norman's sharply disapproving glare that shut him down.

"What's going on, kid?"

This place was unnervingly grey and it reeked of sweat and shame. Norman wanted to run, but his legs refused to respond to his brain. He glanced at the guard standing in the corner of the room. The man only shrugged and held up five fingers. As far as Norman was concerned, five minutes was five minutes too many in his father's presence. "Same old, same old." He replied.

"How's your mom?"

"She's fine. Dylan's fine. Dani's fine. Van's fine. I'm not fine."

Sam looked down at his hands on the table top and fidgeted. His handcuffs clinked on the marble. Norman swallowed hard as he watched his father sink back into old habits of denial and avoidance. "Typical."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Norman."

"I want you to tell me why. That's it. Then I'll go and never come back."

"Norman…"

"Tell me, you bastard."

Sam bowed forward in defeat. Norman could see him battling himself, trying so hard to say nothing. Soon enough, he sighed and looked back up at his son. "You were a terrible kid. You never slept. You had to be forced to eat. You started fights with your brother. You were hard to deal with."

Norman laughed without humor. "I was a fucking kid. Some kids are like that. Others aren't. Doesn't give you the right to treat me like you did."

"I know that."

"Clearly, you don't. You know what? This is pointless. I don't need to argue with you. The damage is done." He spun on his heel and headed for the door. The guard moved to open it for him. Sam's voice rang out behind them.

"I'm sorry, Norman."

"It's too late."

* * *

The façade burst in the car. Tears ran freely and he banged the butt of his hand against the steering wheel over and over, all the while wailing into the emptiness.

He wanted a drink. Longed for one. Self-destruction tempted him and he ached to give into it. Still, he dialed Norma's number, his breath coming in sharp gasps and his hand throbbing and his soul begging him to leave it alone. She answered on the second ring. "Hey."

"If you don't want to find me dead in a ditch, meet me at the liquor store."

* * *

His apartment was sparse and horribly colorless. Norma couldn't say she was surprised at the amount of gloom, but it still hit her hard. This guy was well on his way to drinking himself into oblivion in his dank, tiny apartment and no one would ever know. He could disappear if he wanted to and he was probably counting on no one missing him.

Norma turned to address him, only to find that he had taken to leaning against the refrigerator r in an effort to keep himself relatively upright. "What happened, Norman?"

"I went to see my dad." His words were jumbled and twisting around each other.

Norma clenched her jaw at the stench on his breath. "I'm guessing it didn't go well."

"No." He giggled and lifted himself away from his perch to close the minimal distance between them. "He's a bastard. Always will be. I don't need his apologies and I don't need his approval."

"Of course you don't."

His eyes narrowed. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not, Norman. Look, I think you need AA or something. Your drinking is a problem."

"Screw you. I'm a grown man. I can do what I want." His hands latched onto her hips and pulled her in tight to his chest. "I can touch what I want." His mouth touched her pulse point and began to sink lower.

"Norman." It came out on a whimper. "Norman, stop. You're drunk."

"So what? You're so beautiful and I want you so bad." Those wandering hands raised the hem of her skirt and found their way underneath.

Norma warmed at his insistent touch, but felt herself resist further. "I don't want to take advantage of you like this." She grabbed at his waist. "Norman."

"It's okay, beautiful. I don't care. I don't care. I just want you. Right now."

She kissed him, frantically grasping at his hair and his cheeks. He led her backward until she collided with the front door, the air being stolen from her lungs and forcing her to break the kiss. Norman groaned and tugged at his belt. Norma went for his shirt, only to have him stop her. "No. No." He said. There was a hard crack in his voice that Norma didn't know what to do with. "Leave it."

She obliged and relaxed in place, allowing him to settle into her body again. "Whatever you want, Norman. Whatever you want."

* * *

He started coming to a while later. His body was numb and his eyes refused to focus, but he could hear Norma's voice. A slight, painful movement showed him that she was in the hallway, one hand braced on the edge of the door, the other clenched around her cell phone. "I'm so sorry. Something came up. I'll make it up to you."

Norman struggled to make sense of it as he readjusted himself closer so he could hear better.

"Honey, it's okay. No, you didn't do anything. I was just out with a friend and lost track of time. She got really drunk and I had to take care of her, but I'll see you in the morning."

Norman burrowed himself into the pillow again. His eyes were still heavy. He was slipping back into sleep.

Norma said one more thing. "I promise."

He actually awoke awhile later to find Norma sleeping soundly beside him, her arm slung across his waist. A smile graced his lips as he stood, only to sway on his feet and groan at the pain in his skull. His bare feet padded on the tile. He paused for a second, his eyes trained on Norma's cell phone sitting on the bedside table. Shaking his head, he decided against the urge to snoop and went to the kitchen. Early morning light slanted through the shades and Norman blinked hard against it. His brain was still fogged with the hangover, but he managed to get all the supplies he needed for breakfast out of the fridge.

Bacon, eggs, sausage. Grease that he could count on to suck up the alcohol that was sliding through his veins. He grumbled under his breath and got to work, finding himself soothed by the distraction. He couldn't keep thinking about Norma's phone call. It would drive him nuts.

"Norman?" Speak of the Devil.

"I'm in here." The sound of his own voice for the first time in hours startled him.

Norma came around the corner grinning. "Breakfast? Well, aren't you hospitable?"

"I need the grease to soak up the alcohol." He threw a little smile over his shoulder so she knew he was teasing. "You thought this was for you? How self-centered."

"Shut up, you ass." She came to stand behind him and pressed both hands into his lower back, sliding them up slowly to rest on his shoulder blades. "Are you okay?"

"I will be. Don't worry. You can go if you want."

"I don't want to." She kissed the space between his shoulders and sighed into him. "You're a mess, you know that?"

He breathed in the heavy scent of bacon and nodded. "I know."

She fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt. He tensed at the touch, but Norma didn't extract it. She wanted to see how far she could push before he gave in or yelled in her face. When she started to raise it away from his skin, Norman shook her away and turned on her, his countenance full of genuine fright. "Don't."

"What don't you want me to see?"

Norman eyed her up and down and swallowed a hard lump in his throat. "You don't know how hard this is. To be hiding like this. But, I have to. You're too perfect to be exposed to what I am."

"You think I'm perfect?"

"I know you are. You deserve better than me."

"Norman, this is your father talking, you know that, don't you?"

He blinked. "It doesn't matter."

"It does, Norman. It does. You're too insecure to see that I don't care that you're not perfect. What's happened to you doesn't define you. Stop letting it."

He went quiet and Norma tried again, her hands out in front of her to clasp onto his shirt. She lifted it slowly and Norman let her, though she could feel him shaking, terrified of her dismissal. Once it was over his head, she tossed it to the side, all the while keeping her eyes on him. He was scarred everywhere. Long, white pieces of raised skin across his pectorals and his stomach. And, a surgery scar right down the center of his chest. She touched that, first. "What's this?"

"Splint in my heart. It was put in when I was a kid."

Her finger rode the line of his ribs up to a scar that sloped over his shoulder blade and lower. "Turn around."

He did as she said and took the opportunity to click the stove off. Norma smirked at that tiny detail and went back to her inspection. The damage on his back was worse. She could tell that most of these were fresher and probably more painful. She felt a sudden surge of hatred for Norman's father. "You didn't deserve this, okay? No one could ever deserve anything like this."

He dropped his head and pressed one hand against his eyes.

"It's okay, Norman. It's okay." She slid her arms around his waist and hugged him into her. "It'll be okay."

"Will it?"

"I swear it will."

* * *

"So…"

Norman's head shot up the sound of Dylan's voice. The café was relatively empty, but Norman had taken to studying the humanity around rather then become the focus of Dylan's scrutiny. It hadn't worked as well as he'd hoped. He longed to know what Dylan thought of his recent endeavors. "So what?"

"Dani told me that you and Ms. Calhoun are getting along."

Norman let himself smile at that. He had to seem at ease or Dylan would see right through him. "Yeah, we are."

"I'm happy for you, Norman. Really, I am."

"Thanks."

"Hey, why don't you invite her over for dinner? I'm sure Van would like to know her a little better."

He blew air out through his mouth and gave his brother a look of disbelief. "I don't know."

"Why not?"

"Cause…cause all of this is brand new. I don't want to rush her into anything."

"Norman, she's already met Van and I. It won't be as weird as you're thinking. I promise."

"I like her, Dylan."

Dylan leaned across the table and smacked lightly at his brother's cheek. "I know you do, dweeb. That's why I'm trying to be supportive. Will you just invite her over?"

* * *

Norma leaned back against the edge of the picnic table, her gaze intent on the children in the playground. The sun beat down hard on her back. She squirmed in momentary discomfort and glanced around for the student she wanted to talk to. "Dani!"

The little girl stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of her name. Once she realized its source, she ran for the table, showing her teeth in a radiant expression of glee. "Hi, Ms. Calhoun."

"Hi, sweetie. I need to ask you something. Sit down."

She jumped into the spot beside Norma and beat her little hand against her knee. "Yeah?"

"How's your uncle?"

"He's good. He's out with Daddy today."

"Is he? Can I ask you something else?"

The little girl nodded. "Okay."

"I wanna know about your grandma. Is she…nice to Norman?"

Dani shrugged and looked out toward the other kids. "Sometimes. She got my grandpa awrested."

Norma's surprise painted itself into her expression. "Your grandpa is in jail?"

The girl gave an affirmative motion. She seemed uncomfortable, but Norma wanted to keep pushing. She put her palm on the girl's thigh, causing the sleeve on her jacket to shift up and show off a big bruise on her forearm. Dani stared at it hard and Norma could see the recognition and the sadness. She almost felt bad. Almost. "What's that?" She asked quietly, her already little voice choked down to a whisper.

"Who told you about your grandfather's arrest?"

"Uncle Norman. What's that?"

Norma pressed two fingertips to the injury and sighed. "I ran into a door. It was an accident." She put those same two fingers to Dani's cheek. "Hey, look at me. You can't tell Uncle Norman about our talk, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good girl. Very good. Now go play and forget about this."

* * *

He waited till lunch with Dylan was over before he dialed Norma's number. He sat in his car, staring out at the bustle of people in the shopping center. The café was filling up now and Norman studied its patrons, laughing, talking, so at ease in their own skin. Maybe it was an illusion, but it hit him in the guts all the same. After four rings, Norman was about to hang up. That's when Norma finally answered. "Hey, you."

Just her voice brought elation to his face. "Hi. Um, I need to ask you something."

"Anything." She said sincerely, her gaze still following Dani's frantic, rambunctious movements on the playground.

"Would you maybe want to come to Dylan's house for dinner tomorrow night?"

"What?"

His nervousness was palpable, even across a phone line and a dozen miles. "You don't have to. Dylan just thought…"

"I'd love to."

That stunned Norman into silence.

"Norman? You still there?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm just surprised. Happy, of course, but surprised." He gave a little laugh. "All right, so my mother will be there. And Dylan and his wife and Dani, of course. Oh, and my best friend Emma."

"Your best friend is female?"

"Yes. Why? Are you jealous?"

She could hear the amusement in his tone. "Extremely."

"Don't worry. Emma and I don't engage in too much PDA."

"I hate you."

"Haha. No, you don't."

Norma allowed herself a smile. "I have to go. Recess is almost over."

"Damn it. All right. I'll see you later."

"Yeah, you will."

"Norma?"

"Yeah, baby?"

His windpipe suddenly clogged up with the strength of the emotion he longed to express. In the end, he decided against it. "Nevermind. Bye, beautiful."

"Bye."


	3. Chapter 3

He'd been avoiding Bradley's calls for weeks. He couldn't muster up the courage to tell her whatever had been between was over; it was easier to let it fade into nothingness. So far, it was successful and Norman thanked God for that. He hated letting people down. As for Norma, well, he couldn't quite figure where he was on her radar. Boyfriend, yes, but she hardly gave him anything to work with when it came to her personal life. He supposed he couldn't blame her. He knew all about the urge to keep people at bay.

He didn't want what he had with Norma to be like that, but he'd give her the time she needed if that's what it took. Meanwhile, he had to deal with his family's inquisitions. Tonight was the dinner that could make or break his future with Norma. He'd shrunk away into the kitchen when his mother finally took a breath and found Dani sitting at the table, coloring in the blue around Spongebob's eyes.

"Hey, short stuff. What's going on?"

"Coloring." She kept her focus on what was in front of her.

Norman felt the unease. It made him shake. "Are you okay?" Dani shrugged as Norman settled into the seat beside her. "What's wrong, Dani?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"About Ms. Calhoun's boo boo."

Something cold burst in his blood stream. "Is she all right? What happened?"

"She ran into a door. She isn't hurt bad, Uncle Norman."

He took a sharp breath and chuckled. "Don't scare me like that, kid. Geez."

"Sorry, Uncle Norman."

"You're fine. Go back to coloring."

* * *

She couldn't decide how she wanted to present herself tonight. Wholesome? Infatuated? Did it matter? Norman would defend even if she showed up in full hooker garb. Norma took comfort in that thought as she pulled her favorite blue and white floral print dress off a hanger. A cardigan would finish off the ensemble and she'd come off harmless and innocent. Perhaps that was for the best.

Her bedroom door creaked open and John stood there, studying her studying the dress. "Where are you going?"

"To a friend's house. She runs a book club."

"Oh. How long will you be out?"

She looked at him, her eyes icy, her fingers squeezing around fabric. "A few hours at most. Don't worry. We won't get into any trouble."

"I believe you."

"I'm glad, honey." She brushed her lips on his cheek. "Now, let me get dressed so I can go and come back. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay."

* * *

Never in her life had she ever seen Norman more nervous. He fiddled with his tie – and yes he was wearing a tie to a dinner party in his own house – and surely began fiddling with his shoelaces, then his hair, then the parts of his shirt that were tucked into his pants. Emma grabbed at his hands and led him to the couch. She couldn't take it anymore. "Hey, hey. Would you stop? You're making me anxious."

Norman's ridiculously blue eyes fixated on her. She could see him on the edge of yelling at her, but he instantly relaxed when she smiled at him and smoothed out his tie for him. "Everything's gonna be fine."

He went silent for a while, just listening to his mother move around in the kitchen. Clanging pots and the sound of the fridge opening and closing. On the air, there was the thick smell of her specialty pot roast. Norman slid his fingers through Emma's and pulled her into an embrace, her head cradled into the space between his neck and shoulder. He leaned back into the cushions and sighed. The TV was playing a rerun of Family Ties; he found that strangely appropriate. "I'm sorry, cupcake."

She rolled her eyes at the overly affectionate and snarky nickname he'd given her in middle school. "Jerk-off."

"I would, but it'd feel much better if you helped."

She lifted herself away from him and smacked at his arm. "Jesus, Norman."

"That is what you would be saying. Good impression." He winked.

She hit him again and again while he playfully struggled to catch both her hands. She collapsed to his chest and laughed. There was a knock on the door. "Come in! It's open."

Emma continued to giggle against him as she tried to extract herself. Norman let her. The new person cleared their throat. "Hey."

Norman blushed hard at the realization that it was Norma and stood to greet her, his eyes still alight with mirth. "Hi." He kissed her softly, only kind of annoyed that she barely responded.

Beside them, Emma was readjusting herself and shaking her head. Norman put an arm around Norma's shoulders. "Emma, this is Norma. Norma, this is Emma."

Emma put out a hand. "It's nice to meet you. Norman hasn't stopped talking about you."

Something like smugness threw a shadow over Norma's features as she cuddled a little further into Norman's embrace and took Emma's unspoken offer of a truce. "Good to meet you. You know, I think Norman was a little scared to bring you up to me. I can see why. You two seem…close." She was trying not to sound jealous. Fuck, she really was. Still, it burned in her guts and weaved itself around her heart and her windpipe and her sanity. Why the hell did it matter so much? She had no answer.

Emma's grin became somewhat uneasy. "We've known each other a while." She locked gazes with Norman. Norma caught the silent words that passed between them. After a long second, Norman cleared his throat. "Come on. I want you to meet my mom."

Dylan thought maybe he'd stepped into an alternate reality. One where his brother actually smiled and seemed at ease. It was refreshing for Dylan, who was so used to his wrecked, brokenhearted little brother who never got his way. It made Dylan smile, too, as he sat across from Norman and his new girlfriend, their hands entwined on the tabletop, both of them engaged in conversation with his mother.

Dani sat on the other side of Norman, her eyes intent on Norman's profile. She called his name and he turned to look at her, his smile suddenly all the brighter for it. Dylan had never in his life felt such peace.

"So, Mrs. Bates, what do you do?"

"I'm an accountant. Have been for almost twenty years now."

Dylan noted his mother's joy, too. She seemed so excited that Norman had finally let the past go. Even if Dylan knew better, he loved seeing his mother's usual stone demeanor melt. Norma nodded and squeezed down on Norman's hand.

"How long have you been teaching?"

Norma broke her intense look with Norman to address their mother again. "About ten years. Believe it or not, it wasn't the first thing I wanted to do."

"No?"

"No. I wanted to be a writer. That didn't work out so well."

"I'm sure you were fine at it, babe." Norman cut in.

"You're only saying that because you're obligated." Norma shot back knowingly.

"Of course I am." He laughed. "I wouldn't be a good boyfriend otherwise, would I?"

Dylan was sure he was the only person at the table who saw Emma's clenched fists on the table and the hard lock of her jaw. He was trying to remember a time when he'd seen her like this; nothing came to mind. She'd always been so accepting of Norman's…endeavors. Dylan filed the reaction away for later and decided he would ask her about it. The next thing he tuned into was Van's voice from beside him. "You know, Norman used to write, too. In high school."

"Oh, really?" Norma trapped Norman in her crosshairs again. "You never told me that."

"That's because it's embarrassing to admit that I wrote poetry. Thanks, Van."

"No problem, sweetie." She winked at him. "It's what sister in laws are for."

"Honestly, I think you read the wrong handbook."

Dylan chuckled and pressed a kiss to his wife's shoulder. "I think he might be right on this one, honey."

"What do you know?"

It was such an easy atmosphere that even when it faded into silence, it wasn't awkward or unwanted. It was calm. Norma was the next one to speak. "This is really fantastic, Mrs. Bates. You think I could get the recipe?"

"Oh, absolutely."

"I don't know, babe, my mother's pot roast is famous. I'm not sure you could replicate the magic."

Norma shot him a teasing glare. "Do you doubt me?"

"No, I do not. Just…"

"I'll show you."

Norman brushed her lips with his own. "I can't wait."

His mother stood from the table. "Come with me, Norma. The recipe's in the kitchen."

* * *

Now, the silence was awkward and it was concentrated between Emma and Norman. From her place beside Dylan, she visibly fretted. "Norman?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I talk to you for a second? Alone?"

"Sure."

* * *

"I don't trust her."

His face twisted into disbelief. "What?"

"Come on, Norman. You don't see how phony she is?"

"No. She's been perfectly kind all night."

Emma scoffed. "That's exactly my point! She hit all the right notes at all the right times. No one does that, Norman. She knows how to work a room."

"You're being ridiculous, Emma. And, frankly, a little paranoid."

"I'm not. There's something off about her, Norman. I'm telling you."

He held up a hand to stop her from going any further. "I don't want to hear anymore. If you're gonna insult my girlfriend than you can leave."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Fine. I'm going. Whatever."

He couldn't watch her leave, so he slinked back to the dining room, where Dylan studied his obvious melancholy. "What was that all about?"

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

* * *

Later, when everyone was gone and the kitchen was clean and the world was quiet, Emma's worries gnawed at his mind. Norma was curled into his side, quietly watching the old movie that was playing on TV. Every once in a while, she shifted to get more comfortable, giving a warm smile as she did. Something about the way she was was handcrafted, he knew. She was almost too kind and too understanding and too soft. Emma was right. But, then again, Norma was a teacher. She was forced to smear on the empathy a little too thick.

Norman kept telling himself that over and over. Eventually, he could even convince himself of it. Another question came to the surface. If Norma was truly playing him and his family, what was she hoping to gain? That was one thing he couldn't figure out and within that confusion, he found the comfort he needed. There was nothing he could give her. "Norma?"

She rose at the sound of her name. "Yeah, baby?"

He hesitated. "Tonight went well, didn't it?"

"Yeah. Totally. Your family's great."

"They are. They are. Norma?"

"What is it?"

Again, his question stuck in his windpipe. He coughed. "Um…do you like me?"

"Why would you ask me that? You know I do, baby. In fact, I really, really like you."

"It's just…Emma had this ridiculous idea that you…"

"Why would you let Emma tell you how I feel?"

"She's my best friend. She's been looking out for me my whole life."

"So what? Emma's not in this relationship. You are. I am. This is us. Don't question us. Please." She cupped his face and touched her forehead to his. "Listen to me. I have feelings for you. Okay? I care about you. Don't let anyone tell you different."

"Okay."

She kissed his lips soft and beamed at him. Her eyes sparkled in the light from the TV set. "Good."


	4. Chapter 4

He was startled awake by a persistent banging on the door. The clock on his nightstand read 2:40 AM. He groaned into his pillow. "Go away!"

"Norman." Her voice was cracked and broken and split right down the center of his name.

He sat up and threw his legs over the side of his bed, rising shakily to his feet. "Norma?" His bedroom door was open and he crossed the living room in a mere five strides. He rubbed hard at his eyes, trying to get the cobwebs out of his vision. "Norma? What's going on?"

She stood there underneath his skylight, trembling against the drop in temperature. Her eye was black and blood slid down her face from a wound at her temple. Norman felt the world shift around his feet. "What happened?"

The tears slipped from her eyes. One hand clasped around his. Norman brought it to his lips. "Norma. Tell me what happened."

"My ex. He showed up at my house. I tried…"

His heart clenched tight in his chest and pulled her into a hug, closing the door behind her. "It's okay, Norma. I'm here now. Nobody's gonna hurt you. You're safe."

It was an avalanche of emotions after that, her face in his neck, her hands folded into his t-shirt, her entire body heaving with the strength of her sobs. He led her into the living room. "Sit down, okay? I have to get the first aid kit." He dropped his lips to her forehead. "Jesus Christ." Fell from between his gritted teeth as he turned away and headed to the bathroom.

His fingers shook around the plastic. He grabbed a stool from his kitchen island and set it in front of Norma. "Pick up your head. Let me see." Norma's eyes stay fixed on him while he sprayed a cotton ball with peroxide and moved to dab it on her wound. "Who is he?"

"His name's John. John Massett. We dated in college. Got pretty serious."

"Why did he…why did he do this to you?"

"I don't know, Norman. I don't know."

The wrath was bubbling up quick and dangerous and Norman could barely smother it. Logic outweighed his darker thoughts, at least for the moment. "I'm gonna call the police."

Norma blanched. "No. No, don't."

"Norma, he hurt you. He deserves to be in prison."

"Please don't. Please." Her deep blue eyes begged him and all his rationality retreated to the darkest recesses of his mind. He wanted to kill the man who put his hands on her.

"Okay, Norma. Okay. But, you have to stay here. Just for a little bit until I figure out what to do."

She leaned forward and into him, her head under his chin, one hand laced through both of his. "You're gonna protect me?"

"Of course. You don't have to worry. I'll take care of you."

"I love you, Norman. I love you so much."

He dropped a kiss to her forehead and grinned. "I love you, too. And, I'm gonna get that bastard. I promise."

* * *

He wasn't thinking straight. Emotions were clouding everything over. His anger was red and his bitterness was black and his sadness was the darkest shade of blue. He drove on auto pilot and found himself in front of his mother's house, the setting sun casting shadows over peeling egg shell white paint. He pressed two fingers to his eyes and groaned against his mental anguish. Anything to fight off the urge to do what he wanted to do right now.

The thought kept coming, though, and Norman was powerless to stop it. The steering wheel squeaked under the pressure his hands were applying; that slight sound pulled him from his daze. The next thing he knew, he was at the front door and slipping his spare key into the lock. He headed for the hall closet. What he wanted was there. Rage pulsed dully behind his eyes as he tugged the pistol from the confines of its box and tested its weight in his palm.

Before he could chicken out, he tucked it into the back of his pants and covered it with his shirt tail. The front door creaked open, startling Norman. He shut the closet door behind him just as his mother entered. Surprise and fear took over her features until she realized who it was. "Norman. You scared me."

"Sorry, Mom. Dylan called to ask me if I could check to see if Dani left one of her toys over here."

"Oh. Well, did you find it?"

His thumb brushed the butt of the gun. "Nope. Bye, Mom. Sorry to just barge in."

She wrapped him in a tight hug. "It's good to see you, son."

"Yeah. Yeah. You, too."

* * *

That night, he drank. He drank until he couldn't see straight, until the entire world was spinning around his feet, until he was walking in a zig zag toward his bedroom. His phone kept ringing. He kept ignoring it. Incoherent mumbles passed his lips and his latest bottle slipped from his fingers and spilled beer all over the carpet.

He collapsed to his bed just as Norma walked through the door. "Norman." Her heels clacked closer. She gasped at the sight of him completely vulnerable and ruined. "Norman, what the hell?"

"Mmmmm."

"Norman. Hey."

Another grumble.

"Jesus." She touched his forehead. "Why do you do this to yourself, baby?"

"Norma."

"Yeah, baby, it's me."

His glazed eyes opened to slits. "Heeeyyy, beautiful."

"Norman. Dylan called me to tell me you haven't been answering your phone. I guess I know why."

His eyes drooped close again.

"Why are you drinking, Norman? What happened?"

"Noth….nothing."

"You're lying." She sighed, resigning herself to the knowledge that she'd get nothing from him tonight. She walked to the chair in the corner of the room and sat, watching him sleep soundly to the buzz of the alcohol in his system. "Good night, baby."


End file.
